


Bits

by pink_shoes



Series: Awake [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, Transformer Sparklings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-17 09:11:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13073736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pink_shoes/pseuds/pink_shoes
Summary: I am in baby robot hell and I am taking all of you with me.Awakeverse. Pre-Awake.





	1. Crossfire I

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone. I stumbled upon something that seriously grossed me out, so I had to write this tonight as therapy. 
> 
> Maybe I’ll add more to this, I don’t know.

Crossfire took after Skyfire in frame, with snowy white plating and stubby square winglets. The medics had all commented on his violet optics, a rare color that might become more common in the future as mechs began courtships across the old faction lines.

At three solar cycles old, Crossfire was happy and healthy, but the medics were not letting Starscream leave the hospital yet. He was not surprised. Skyfire—his brilliant, precious, devoted Skyfire—had managed to create a serum that counteracted his panic attacks, the same panic attacks that had caused him to lose their first sparklet.

Nobody had really reacted positively to the news that Starscream was carrying again, because everyone knew what the end result would be. Not a single sparklet had made it to emergence since Rain Dust and Solar Flare a few hundred vorns ago. 

Sparklets were tiny and fragile, barely more than a puff of light and a sliver of crystal. When their carrier sparks inevitably suffered panic attacks, the sparklets would be disrupted and absorb back in. 

But Skyfire was determined that Starscream wouldn’t lose another sparklet. He’d spent every waking moment perfecting the serum that would intercept a panic attack quickly enough to prevent reabsorption. Nobody had believed it would work. 

But now Starscream was cradling a brand-new sparkling in his arms, and some mechs had come from the Senate to talk to Skyfire about his invention. Skyfire had reluctantly left Starscream’s side to see what they wanted. 

Crossfire pressed himself close to Starscream’s chassis, seeking out the familiar spark that had supported him for the last stellar cycle. His faceplates were so soft and innocent that Starscream had difficulty believing that this was really his sparkling. 

He couldn’t do much more than chew on his own digits and make noises, but Starscream found him fascinating. Crossfire was impossibly small, with joints so tiny that he would not have been able to even perceive them if not for his scientist-grade optics. It almost made him regret that he’d specialized in energy production instead of cyber-biology.

The doors slid open, and Crossfire looked up hopefully, obviously anticipating the return of his sire. But instead, a pair of seekers entered the room, Skywarp and Thundercracker. 

“Oh Primus, look at him!” cried Skywarp, rushing forward to attempt to pry Crossfire out of Starscream’s servos. “TC look! Look! Look at him!”

Crossfire chirruped and looked back and forth between the two new additions to his small world. Starscream pulled him close, protectively. 

“I think you both owe me an apology,” he said sharply. 

“Aw, come on—” whined Skywarp, edging around the hospital berth so he could be nearer to the sparkling. Starscream immediately shifted in the other direction. “Don’t be a glitch!”

“I can have the medics throw you out,” Starscream threatened. 

“Fine. I’m sorry we doubted Skyfire’s magic potion,” Skywarp said impatiently. “Now let me hold him!”

That was probably as good as he would ever get from Skywarp, and he reluctantly handed Crossfire over. The sparkling gurgled and patted his ex-wingmate’s faceplates.

“There’s other mechs who want to visit, too,” said Thundercracker. “You really should let them, if you’re feeling up to it. It’s been so long…”

Starscream knew, and he was torn between his instinct to keep Crossfire far, far away from the scary noisy dangerous outside world and his desire to bask in the attention and goodwill of his fellow Cybertronians.

He was also looking forward to uploading some video files of Crossfire to the datanet. Footage of Armistice and the twins had received millions of hits, and Crossfire was far cuter than some civilian femme or his glitched clone’s glitched spawn. Crossfire’s first video would get billions of hits, and spread to the most remote corners of the galaxy, and beyond.

As Skywarp and Thundercracker cooed over Crossfire, Starscream pulled up some of the videos in question, wondering if there was anything in them that he could take inspiration from. Elita’s most popular video was a fairly recent one, titled “Armistice tries out her new language software.” In it, she cradled Armistice in her arms and sang to her. 

The song was an Autobot battle hymn, but Elita sang slowly and gently, and the song took on a new, gentler meaning. Armistice gazed up at her carrier with enormous lightning-blue optics and sang along, awkwardly, missing half the words but clearly trying her best to follow the tune.

Starscream chewed his lower lipplate. Armistice was now in her second frame and everyone knew toddling, wide-opticked second frames were objectively cuter than scrunchy, wriggly first frames. He wouldn’t hold Crossfire to that standard, yet. But he would have to think of something good if he wanted to show the universe who had the best sparkling on Cybertron.

“Alright, that’s enough. Give him back,” commanded Starscream, holding his arms out. Skywarp whined in complaint, but Crossfire was already leaning in towards his carrier’s outstretched arms. Once he was back, he immediately cuddled against Starscream’s chest.

“TC,” said Skywarp, urgency in his voice. “I need one.”

“Ha! As though you could keep a newspark alive for more than two breems!” scoffed Starscream. 

“Frag you!”

“Don’t swear in front of my sparkling,” Starscream retorted, putting his servos over Crossfire’s tiny, tiny audials. Crossfire looked up at him in confusion.

“He doesn’t have language files. He can’t understand,” said Skywarp. 

“Starscream,” said Thundercracker. “Be serious for a moment. Is Skyfire willing to sell his serum?”

Starscream looked up from Crossfire. “I don’t know,” he said. “We haven’t been thinking about it.”

“Well, maybe you should,” Thundercracker said. “I think there would be a lot of mechs interested in it.”

Starscream’s tickled the edge of Crossfire’s winglets, causing them to sweep all the way downward. He wasn’t really in the mood to think about anything other than himself and his sparkling and the billions of hits his first video would get.

He would have to work hard to outdo Sunstorm. Not only were Sunstorm’s sparklings also in their second frames, but they were twins. Solar Flare and Rain Dust were cute, he _supposed_ , but they got more attention than they really deserved by virtue of being twins and having a habit of holding servos across Sunstorm’s chest whenever he carried them out in public.

He might even have to consult with Soundwave. Soundwave knew a thing or two about shooting cute sparkling videos. And the mech could use a distraction from sitting at Megatron’s bedside and sighing heavily for cycles on end.

The door opened again, and Skyfire entered, ducking his helm to avoid the doorframe. He went to Starscream and kissed him deeply. 

“Do you remember those apartments in central Iacon you liked?” Skyfire asked as they pulled apart. 

“Yes?” said Starscream, who had not been expecting this line of conversation. 

“Would you like to live there?”

“We can’t afford that, Skyfire,” Starscream reminded him, wondering how Skyfire had managed to forget their financial situation. The apartments in question had been lovely, located in a tall and ornate luxury building that had been exactly to Starscream’s lavish tastes but not, unfortunately, his budget. Especially not after he had all but bankrupted himself rebuilding the Academy. 

“We can now,” said Skyfire cryptically. “But don’t worry. I’ll handle all that. You just rest.” He kissed Starscream’s forehelm again. “How is Crossfire?”

The sparkling in question was now chirping eagerly at Skyfire. Skyfire picked him up in his massive servos and cradled him to his chest.

“Windblade is downstairs,” added Skyfire. “She’d like to visit.”

Starscream’s plating flared out defensively. “Is she here to apologize for stealing my lipstick?”

“I don’t know about that,” said Skyfire placidly. “But she brought a gift.”

Oh. Well. That changed things. Starscream cycled his vents deeply. “I will,” he said, “consider it.”

Skyfire turned to Skywarp and Thundercracker. “It’s good to see you,” he said warmly. “Thank you for keeping Star company.”

“It’s no trouble,” said Thundercracker. Then his optics darkened. “I was just wondering—that is, we were wondering…” He looked at Skywarp. “The serum that you created—”

“I can’t say anything yet,” interrupted Skyfire. “But just be patient. Some things are in development.”

Starscream looked up and send a questioning pulse across their bond. Skyfire responded with his own pulse of _patience_. Normally Starscream would be irritated by this response, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind too much today. 

Crossfire’s tiny servos grabbed at Skyfire’s nasal ridge. Skyfire laughed and passed him back to Starscream, where he immediately settled.

“Should I tell the medics to send Windblade up?” asked Skyfire. 

“I suppose,” said Starscream, waving his servo like a Golden Age senator granting favors. “But I’m throwing her out if her gift is terrible.”


	2. Crossfire II

Skyfire liked to sing to Crossfire, mostly shuttle songs about the beauty of deep space that his own creators had sung to him when he was a newspark countless eons ago. Crossfire would press up against his sire’s chest and listen peacefully for hours, sometimes humming along with the tune.

It would be a while before Crossfire would be able to sing with Skyfire, but he had learned how to whistle. Neither Skyfire nor Starscream knew where he’d picked it up; perhaps it was an innate skill. Regardless, the two quickly became accustomed to Crossfire curling up with one or both of his parents and whistling soft little tunes of his own invention. 

Starscream would not be returning to work in the labs until Crossfire was in his second frame, at the very least. But he had to occupy himself somehow, so he spent a fair amount of time outlining experiments he hoped to try when he returned to work or reviewing the projects that his fellow scientists were currently working on so that he would not completely lose track of what was going on in the community. All the while, Crossfire would lay across his cockpit and send warm little pulses of love across their bond. 

Skyfire and Starscream read to Crossfire every night before recharge, and so the sparkling had recently come to the conclusion that every datapad he encountered was meant for him. As Starscream reviewed the latest report that Perceptor had published, Crossfire waved his tiny servo in the direction of the glimmering screen, grasping hopefully at empty air. 

“No, Crossfire,” said Starscream firmly. “This one is mine. I’ll read to you later.”

Crossfire rested his helm against Starscream’s neck and purred softly. It was a soothing sensation, and Starscream reached up to pet Crossfire’s winglets as he read. Subconsciously, he began to hum. 

Crossfire chirped loudly, lifting his helm up and staring into Starscream’s optics with renewed interest. 

“What?” asked Starscream, looking down into his sparkling’s bright purple optics. Crossfire shifted so that he was facing his carrier straight on and chirped again. The bond was now bright with interest. 

“I don’t know what you want,” said Starscream. “One of your toys?”

Crossfire was not even a stellar cycle old, but it felt like he’d already managed to accumulate hundreds of toys. The new apartment was absolutely crammed with colorful mesh blankets, soft fabric toys, round-edged hollow plastic blocks, and so much more. Skyfire and Starscream tried to keep everything contained to a few baskets, but it seemed like it only took a few klicks for the entire apartment to be covered in all of Crossfire’s worldly possessions. 

Skyfire had suggested quietly getting rid of some of the toys, reasoning that Crossfire could not possibly miss one or two when he had so many. But almost all of them had been gifts, and there was always the chance that the gift-giver would turn up for a visit and wonder what had happened to their particular toy or blanket. 

Secretly, Starscream did not mind terribly. He personally thought that Crossfire deserved to have everything he could ever think to ask for.

But Crossfire did not reach for any of his nearby toys or even gesture to one of the baskets. Instead, he continued to watch his carrier.

“Settle down, I’m trying to work,” said Starscream. Perhaps Crossfire only wanted attention. 

Crossfire whistled to him, a simple, lilting tune. Starscream gave a very small smile and ran his digits over Crossfire’s helm. 

“You look just like your sire,” he said affectionately. “You’re going to be so handsome when you get your upgrades.”

Crossfire reached out and pressed one little servo to Starscream’s mouth.

“What?” asked Starscream again. 

Crossfire hummed an approximation of one of Skyfire’s shuttle songs. 

“You want me to sing?” Starscream said incredulously. “No. Absolutely not. Forget you ever had the idea.”

For Starscream would not be caught dead attempting to sing. He knew perfectly well what his vocalizer sounded like. His speaking voice was bad enough, thanks to the protoform malformation in his throat that had plagued him for his entire existence. He would not further humiliate himself by attempting to sing.

Starscream picked Crossfire up and settled him against his chest again. “That’s enough,” he said firmly. “You can either behave, or I can put you back in your crib.”

Crossfire gurgled but stayed put and Starscream turned his attention back to his datapad. Every so often, another warm little pulse of love would touch his spark. 

After a little while, Starscream began to hum again.


	3. Stormwarp

Thundercracker knew that Stormwarp had inherited his sire’s sigma ability. But that did nothing to quell the rush of panic that shot through his frame when he turned around and saw that their sparkling had gone missing.

It wasn’t the first time this had happened. Along with a fully-functional teleportation matrix, Stormwarp had an innate sense of adventure and no understanding of why the outside world might be dangerous for one as small as himself. 

Thundercracker reached out across the creation bond and found Stormwarp. The sparkling was happy, as usual, and apparently not lost or injured.

 _Return_ , Thundercracker ordered across the bond, pressing the sensation down as hard as he could.

 _!!!_ replied Stormwarp. A moment later, there was a familiar popping sound and Stormwarp appeared on the countertops in front of Thundercracker, smiling brightly.

“Where have you been?” asked Thundercracker. Stormwarp chirruped and held out one servo, which was clutching a half-eaten rust stick. Thundercracker sighed heavily. “Fantastic.” Hopefully they wouldn’t be getting visited by the enforcers tonight. A teleporting, candy-stealing seekerlet would not be too difficult to track down.

Thundercracker swept Stormwarp into his arms, making the sparkling screech with delight. 

“You can’t go running off like that,” scolded Thundercracker, but it was hard to remain stoic when Stormwarp was giggling so happily. “You could be injured, or lost.”

He knew that Stormwarp could not understand his words, but he hoped something of his tone got through to the baby. Stormwarp merely continued to smile and crammed the rest of the rust stick in his mouth. 

How far had Stormwarp gone? Hopefully he had not been able to leave the apartment complex, and the rust stick had been stolen from a nearby neighbor, rather than a shop on the opposite side of the city. 

“And you can’t take things that don’t belong to you,” Thundercracker continued, albeit with a twinge of guilt. The war had been over for hundreds of vorns, but he still could not quite bring himself to be angry at his sparkling for stealing fuel. Rationally, he knew that civilization only worked because mechs all agreed to follow a set of rules, but deep inside of him was a cold terror that someday Stormwarp would experience the sort of hunger he had so long ago.

He shook himself free of the bad memories. He still had a handful of the pills that had been prescribed for him while he was carrying. Would it really be so wrong if he finished off the bottle?

Stormwarp chirped again.

“What am I going to do with you?” he sighed. 

“Ah!” said Stormwarp. “Bah. Mm. Mmmgh.”

“Alright,” said Thundercracker. “We both need a distraction. Let’s see what Crossfire is up to.”

* * *

Crossfire and Stormwarp got along well. It was interesting to see how their personalities were already starting to show through, even at their early ages.

Stormwarp was impulsive, moving from one game to the next with little warning. Crossfire was calm and patient, and would tolerate a great deal of Stormwarp’s antics before crawling back to his own carrier for a break. 

Thundercracker sat and watched the sparklings play with some sort of interlocking block toys. They could not walk yet, but they could crawl and pull themselves into sitting positions. Sometimes Stormwarp would grip two of Thundercracker’s digits and “walk” in little circles.

Crossfire was industriously stacking bricks, while Stormwarp merely sat back and watched, only occasionally adding a block to the colorful tower. It was strange, but Thundercracker could not shake the feeling that Stormwarp was plotting something.

He reached out and sent a questioning pulse to Stormwarp. Stormwarp chirped and looked up and smiled at his creator. _????_ he replied.

 _What-are-you-doing?_ Thundercracker asked without words.

 _??? !!! ?!?!_ protested Stormwarp. He added a few pulses of love for emphasis, but Thundercracker was not fooled. He knew Stormwarp was never completely innocent, much like his sire.

Crossfire paused, tasted a block, and then added it to the tower. 

_Watching-you,_ warned Thundercracker.

The only response was sunny enthusiasm, but Thundercracker could swear he felt either smug satisfaction or amusement from Stormwarp’s tiny spark.

As a shuttle, Crossfire was already twice Stormwarp’s size. Thundercracker could not help but be impressed by how gentle he was, always moving slowly and cautiously around Stormwarp, careful not to squish limbs or bump winglets. He wondered if this was something Skyfire had taught his offspring, or some innate piece of programming.

Stormwarp studied the tower and seemed to come to a decision. He pulled himself nearer to Crossfire and laid one little servo over his, chirping out a tiny and complex symphony that sounded very meaningful. Crossfire smiled and patted Stormwarp’s face. 

To Thundercracker’s surprise, Stormwarp pushed Crossfire back—not hard, and it was not as though he could have dented Crossfire’s shuttle plating even if he’d wanted to, but Thundercracker leapt to his pedes anyway.

“Stormwarp!” said Thundercracker in a warning tone. 

But Crossfire was still smiling, having hardly felt the little push. Nevertheless, he obligingly edged back away from the block tower, in the direction that Stormwarp had tried and failed to send him. Then, catching sight of Starscream and remembering the existence of his carrier, he pulled his legs in to his frame and rolled over to him.

Starscream leaned down and picked Crossfire up, straining a little bit under the weight. 

“Well, at least we know he’s healthy,” said Thundercracker as Starscream struggled.

“It’s extra energon stores, and his plating is _very_ dense,” said Starscream defensively. 

“I didn’t mean—”

A sonic boom shook the room. Starscream shrieked and wrapped his frame around Crossfire, wings coming up like a barrier. Thundercracker lurched forward and stumbled blindly in Stormwarp’s direction, simultaneously checking his engines and programming and trying to understand why his frame had suddenly decided to malfunction…

Stormwarp was smiling up at him. On the floor, the block tower lay in pieces. 

“That wasn’t me?” murmured Thundercracker, resting one servo over his cockpit.

Stormwarp chirruped. 

“That was _you_?” he demanded, standing over his sparkling. 

“What?” Starscream shrilled. His faceplates were nearly black with rage, but Crossfire was patting his cheek comfortingly, which seemed to help. He struggled for words, then finally said, “Who ever heard of a sparkling with _two_ sigma abilities?”

Thundercracker picked Stormwarp up. “That,” he said firmly, “was not nice. Look, you scared Crossfire and his carrier.”

That was only half-true, though, because Crossfire was as placid as ever. Starscream was a different story. His wings were shaking visibly, and his vents were roaring at full power. He slumped back against the couch, clutching Crossfire to his chest. 

“I am sorry,” said Thundercracker. “I had no idea—we had him screened before he was even protoformed, but the medics only found the teleportation.”

“’S fine,” muttered Starscream faintly. He waved a servo weakly. “Primus. Two sigma abilities in one sparkling. You two almost deserve it.”

“At least his name still fits,” observed Thundercracker. 

Stormwarp beamed and snuggled into Thundercracker’s arms.


End file.
